Shadowland. Spider World 06 by Colin Wilson

There was no answering squawk. Niall, rather enjoying making so much noise, prepared to shout again, when he saw the birds. They must have been perching on one of the towers of the Great Wall, and were now flapping upward, with slow and purposeful beats of their wings.

He turned and hurried back to the captain.

“They’re coming. Don’t let them see you.”

The spider immediately pressed himself into one of the twisted hollows at the base of the pinnacle. Niall stared at the cliff top with a certain apprehension, and turned the thought mirror toward his chest. Then the two flapping shapes appeared over the cliff top, and swooped unhesitatingly toward him as if they already knew precisely where he was.

Before they could reach him, both had been gripped by the will-force of the spider. They tried to twist in the air to escape, but it was too late. With a certain reluctant admiration, Niall watched the captain force them to the ground. Their unwillingness was obvious.

Now that he could study them at close quarters, he saw many things that he had failed to observe when they were trying to get in through the windows. The head was that of a snapping turtle, with the upper and lower lips ending in a kind of curved beak. Both were panting, and their open mouths showed a thick, fleshy tongue, in the center of which was a small, pink object about the size of a small finger; Niall knew intuitively that this was for luring prey. Like birds, they had no teeth, but the lips were horny, resembling beaks, and obviously capable of tearing and masticating flesh. The face was scaly, like a snake’s, the eyes, red and menacing, surrounded by loose flesh.

The wings of the oolus bird were covered with pale, sandy-colored feathers, and were enormous and powerful. The legs were scaly, but the feet looked oddly incongruous, shaped rather like enormous human hands covered in black hair, with claws that might have been purple-colored nails.

The spider made them stand upright on the edge of the stone platform, and moved close to them, rolling himself into a tight ball with the legs invisible beneath him.

The captain asked: “Can you control yours?”

Niall said: “I think so.” In fact, he was by no means sure.

Instantly he felt himself seized in the bird’s great hands. He felt its wings stretch above him, blotting out the sun; then suddenly he was airborne. The hands were holding him below his arms, and were so big that they met around his ribs. Up they went, past the top of the pinnacle, so that he could see inside the belfry, with its huge bronze bell. Then the tower was below him, and they were soaring above the valley.

The sight of the ground so far below him caused a certain involuntary nervousness — the knowledge that the creature had only to loose its grip to send him plunging to his death. As this thought passed through his mind, he felt the hands tighten around him, and realized that the bird was responding to his will.

He had a curious sense that this had happened before. Instantly, he remembered the dream in the cave of the chameleon men, in which he had been transported skyward by a bird with human hands.

As soon as he recognized that his mind could control the bird, he ceased to be nervous. He could actually feel his own dominance over the feeble will of the creature, whose small purposes were entirely dominated by its interest in food. And suddenly, Niall understood. This great creature was an evolutionary freak, brought into existence by the vital force of the goddess. When its ancestors were smaller, they had to fight hard for subsistence; but now, with its powerful body and formidable claws and beak, the oolus bird had no real predators. There was an abundance of prey; from this height — they were still above the cliff tops — he could see large animals grazing. So it led a lazy existence, which had sapped its will, and would lead, in due course, to its extinction.

This journey was not unlike being transported by the imagination of Asmak. In the northern distance he could see the Gray Mountains, with their curious, twisted peaks, one of which concealed the entrance to Shadowland. But Niall was more interested in looking directly ahead, anxious to observe where they should go next. The Great Wall, which he had looked forward to seeing more closely, was far below, and although he easily could have made the bird land on top of it, he decided that it would serve no purpose. Besides, he was hungry.

He had already decided that, if possible, they would spend the night in the cliff dwellings, but had been wondering how they could climb up to them without ladders. But now, seeing a path that led up the cliff face from the level of the dwellings, he saw that the answer was to land on top of the cliff and then descend from above.

Therefore, he directed his bird to fly across the valley, to a place on the cliff top near the beginning of the path — which, at close quarters, he saw to be more like a flight of steps. The bird planed down and gently released Niall onto a kind of thick, tough grass whose pure green color belied its coarseness. The bird landed, flapped its wings, then folded them and stood waiting. A moment later, the other bird, carrying the captain, landed a few yards away.

The captain unfolded his legs and stood upright. He asked Niall: “Shall we kill them?”

“Why?”

“Their flesh is good for eating.”

But Niall had noticed, about half a mile away, a herd of creatures about the size of sheep, grazing on the thick grass.

“I don’t think that will be necessary. After all, they have served us well. ”

He could feel the captain’s surprise; the spider obviously felt that loyalty to these stupid creatures was completely inappropriate. Nevertheless, he conveyed to them the message that they were free to go and the birds lost no time in launching themselves off the cliff and swooping downward, their hoarse, squawking cries expressing their relief.

In the late afternoon sunlight, the Valley of the Dead was beautiful, with its dark, mirrorlike lake resembling black steel, and immense dark cliffs that sparkled with veins of blue and pink rock crystal. A few hundred yards to the west of where they had landed, the ground rose, and was covered with stunted trees and bushes, among which Niall was glad to observe a dead tree that could provide fuel for a fire. The first thing he did was to take a long drink of the springwater; it was delicious to the throat, but sharpened his hunger.

The captain was eyeing the sheeplike creatures with interest, and Niall could sense that he was also hungry. By mutual consent, and without exchanging a word, they moved toward the herd at a walking pace. On his own, the captain could have covered the ground in less than a minute, but then, speed might have caused the sheep to flee. So, since there was no cover, they approached slowly and casually.

These sheep, Niall observed as they came closer, were bigger than those in the fields around the city of the bombardier beetles. Many among them were black. Niall took out the telescopic rod and lengthened it into a spear; apart from the knife, it was the only weapon that he had.

The sheep saw them when they were about fifty yards away. Niall expected a stampede; in fact, their reaction was totally unexpected. The black sheep moved quickly to the front of the herd, so the white ones were behind them, then stared across at Niall and his companion with unmistakable hostility.

Expecting the captain to select one of them and pin him down with willpower, Niall pointed to the fattest of the black sheep facing them. “That one.”

He was startled by the effect of his words. The sheep lowered their heads and began to charge. Within seconds the whole herd was thundering toward them. Ever since moving in the direction of the sheep, he and the captain had established a telepathic link, and Niall now used the whole force of the thought mirror to direct his will toward the animal they had selected. It immediately stumbled and collapsed, causing the sheep behind to tumble headlong over it. But the rest of the sheep simply divided around the fallen ones, and continued to charge. Niall was astonished at the ferocity in their eyes, and at the fact that they were snarling like wolves, with their lips drawn back. The exposed teeth looked as if they could give a dangerous bite.

At the same moment, Niall and the captain made the same decision — to flee. There was no other sensible course. The captain loped away; then, remembering that Niall had shorter legs, turned and picked him up with his forelegs, then carried him, his claws holding Niall by the waist like some huge doll. The thought mirror had prevented Niall from panicking; now he felt like laughing at the thought of running away from a flock of sheep.